Stay Safe
by Sophiacharlotte
Summary: He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of his and mine are the same. - Emily Bronte AU- no zombies, Caryl, soulmate, reincarnation, fic.
1. Chapter 1

AN: this is a total experiment. If you like it I will continue. This is a reincarnation, soulmate fic. So warning, they will die in each time period, until they don't ;) each time period I will name them Carol and Daryl to lessen any confusion but they may have different last names etc. Warnings for death. No nasty anons please. Please let me know what you think. This is fiction, I researched a little but please forgive any mistakes

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead.

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Chapter 1

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He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of his and mine are the same. - Emily Bronte

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1860

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When the war started Daryl had been in the North. Merle had signed them on with a crew working on the ever expanding railroad. It was tireless, back breaking. Days spent out in the sun, driving spikes into the ground. Anchoring the tracks to the earth, so deep Daryl swore the almighty would not be so bold as to attempt to knock the mighty trains roaring down the track off course.

It was tedious work. That was for certain, but that was nothing new for the Dixon brothers. Dirt poor, they had grown up on the family farm. If you could call it a farm. In the end his father's drinking and mismanagement had squandered any holding the family had. It had come upon the shoulders of Daryl, and Merle, to attempt to hold the farm above water. To stave off starvation, and the brutal temper of their father.

His momma had died of consumption. But all who knew Violet Dixon knew that she had not put up much of a fight against her eternal rest. A small sad pale woman, Daryl had bore her no ill will in wanting to seek out her eternal rest and leaving himself and Merle at the mercy of their father. If nothing else she deserved peace. She would not find it among the living.

He and Merle had set off on their own. Leaving in the night. Heading north east, travelling where the wind and work would take them.

Daryl had no ambition to anything but follow Merle, his loyal lackey to the end. The thought of anything else, was hopeless, that was not his lot in life, to prosper to have peace. He could feel it in his soul. This was all that was meant to be. Never ending days of nothing. Working to survive, but not to build a life.

They'd found odd jobs at ranches and farms throughout the years, never staying in one place very long. More often then not, Merle would wear out his welcome and they would flee. Following prosperity Merle said, and prosperity seemed to flow north.

They ended up somewhere in Ohio, in 1860, the construction on the lines had stopped in preparation for the northern winters and he and Merle had them gotten jobs, at an iron mill, awaiting the coming spring and the freedom to follow the rails. Filling the blast furnaces was work, but Daryl longed for the open air and the camp life of the rails, Merle longed for home.

Merle surprisingly hated life on the road, hated the cold winters of the north. He missed home, wanted to feel the humid heat on his skin. Daryl had no such longing, all his life he'd never quite felt as though he was home. That was until he found her.

He'd headed into town, the small general store was just that, small but well stocked, he was needing some ammunition. When he'd seen her. Carol.

She'd been making her way into town as well. Her parents, had been lost in the yellow fever epidemic two years past, and she'd been struggling ever since, to keep her father's small farm afloat.

Making her way into town to sell her preserves and other goods, and also find the ferrier who'd promised to return to shoe her beloved horse. He had not, her horse had thrown a shoe a mile or so outside of town, and he'd found her, struggling on the icy ground in a ridiculous dress, to remove the partial shoe that remained. Murmuring to her horse in a hushed whisper.

He'd wanted to ride by. Bypass her, head off the road into the forest and she'd never know he was there. Women had never cottoned to his surly demeanour. Merle had always stated that Daryl was the sweet one but he'd never found a woman, that was able to brush past his natural barriers.

He watched her from a distance, struggling with the horse. Then she put her hand up to comfort the animal. He saw her place her head against the horse's neck and how it calmed. A stirring in his gut, carried him forward on his horse. No woman capable of such affection should be left alone like that on the road where anyone might deem to take advantage of that kindness.

As he road up, she turned, smiling in relief. He steadied his horse, and dismounted. She waited in silence. His damn awkward surliness made it hard to even look her in the eye, but when he did, it was as though the heavens opened, and a pure blue, that only must be found in heaven itself, stared up at him, taking his measure he was certain, even more certain that she would be frightened of his roughneck appearance. She smiled then sweetly, and damn if his heart did not pound painfully in his chest. A tiny voice in his head murmured, there it is, what you've been looking for, in a ridiculous red dress, with the most beautiful red curls he'd ever seen.

"Can I be of assistance ma'am?" He said his voice hoarse from disuse.

"Yes, thank you! My sweet Angel has thrown his shoe. Well part of it. I was trying to remove the part still in place, so I could walk him into town. I don't want him to be in pain." She murmured.

He grunted, taking the pliers from her without a word. The wind wiped then and he watched in fascination as her curls blew away from her neck. Never before had a women's neck caught his undivided attention. Shaking his head, he leaned down, taking the foot cautiously, he heard her murmur softly to the horse. "It's ok Angel our own hero is here to help us."

The shoe fragment had come of easily. He examined the hoof and noticed no damage. She would not be riding the horse though, he flushed brightly as he turned.

"Ya'll not be riding him till that shoe is replaced. You can ride with me to town, we can lead her in...unless you had rather not be seen with the likes of me." He grunted, embarrassed.

She chuckled softly " I fear what reputation I had quickly evaporated when I refused to move to town after my parents passed. I couldn't care less anyway what they say. The store manager only cares that the customers clammor for my bread and preserves. They can all be damned. You are a good man." She finished with a flush. Biting her lip.

"You only just met me." He grunted.

She shrugged going over to his horse for help with mounting. "You have a good soul.." she said as he helped her mount, then paused staring down into his eyes. "I can see it in your eyes" She finished on a whisper. Her intense gaze seemed to open every locked door in his heart and mind. Letting in all the feelings he had suppressed all his life.

He tied her horse to his lead and mounted in front of her. A feeling of completeness washed over him as she wrapped her arms around his waist. It was as though his life had just begun.

He'd shyly offered to see her home, to ensure no further problems with the shoe that had been repaired, and she'd agree. He'd missed her arms around him on the ride back. A slow friendship had begun to build. She brushed aside his surly demenor, seeing something inside him he did not know was there. He'd offered, when he saw the state of disrepair of her barn to come the next weekend to do the repairs. She'd smiled cheekily, and brushed the hair from his eyes with a smile.

"Of course," she murmured with a grin "I dare not refuse any much needed help, but just so you know, you don't need an excuse to come calling." And had turned entering her house.

Merle grumbled all winter. About how Daryl was becoming a damn Yankee, how his little mouse was making him soft. In truth he knew Merle worried he would not be leaving come spring. In truth he already knew, he could not leave her.

She filled his thoughts, her eyes haunted his dreams. Seeing her every weekend did not seem did not seem enough. He worried constantly for her, out there alone in her house. Anything could happen to her out there alone. He could spend every moment with her and never grow tired of her. She had a heart like his own. His heart seemed to relish the fact it had found his perfect match. The future stretched out ahead of them. Then the future came to a grinding halt, and the war began.

Merle wanted to go south and join the confederate army. He raged at Daryl when he refused to go with him. Merle was terrified that he would never be welcomed home again if they did not fight. Daryl knew without a doubt he had found his home with Carol. He had no desire to go fight for ideals that he did not believe in simply so they would be welcomed in the south. Merle didn't care and they had parted on bad terms.

She'd held him that day. For as long as he needed as he mourned the brother he felt he would never see again.

They prepared to marry, trying to ignore the hell that surrounded them. They had found heaven.

He was drafted by the union.

They married in haste, and said goodbye. As he marched away, he felt as though his soul was tearing away, as piece by piece fell in his wake. A trail of his heart's own tears, leading away from her.

He resolved to survive, she could not loose anyone else. She needed him, as he needed her. He was good at surviving.

The years past and she wrote as often as she could. Laying her heart open and bare with her words. They longed for one another.

He was terrified when he learned she had become a nurse coming perilously close to the battles. She had the heart of a warrior, unable to sit idle while those she loved suffered. But he'd managed to see her once, he'd been granted furlow and he'd found her three months ago. That night had been filled with a reignited passion. A desperation unlike any other had taken ahold of them. His heart had broken again the next day as he'd had to leave.

The battle of Appomattox loomed ahead, it was thought to be the final battle. Lee was close to surrendering they could feel it. It would be over soon. His aim proved true. He lead fearless charges. But it seemed his luck would not hold fast.

As the hornet like bullet pierced his side, he fell to the ground. He stared up at the sky and was certain, he could see her face.

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It was certain, that each day in the hospital would bring about only one thing. Misery. The air smelled like a putrid mix of blood and bowel. The moans of the wounded filled the air, most missed limbs.

Carol had worked most of the day. Sweat dripped from her brow. As she dashed past amputations in progress only just making the outside of the tent, did she empty her stomach. The third time that day.

"Does your man know you are expecting?"

Carol turned taking the towel offered to her from a fellow nurse Clara, and wiped her face. She shook her head no. He did not. Saint's above her beloved husband for all his tough exterior worried like a matronly aunt. She did not want him preoccupied. She could not loose him.

Clara, sighed and took her hand. "Come, a new batch of wounded, has arrived from the field. You'll sit with those going to meet the maker. At least you will be off your feet."

Carol followed slowly, her spirit so low. It seemed as though the never ending trail of wounded would never end.

She headed towards the back, the area had a separate entrance they brought in the dying. No need for the other men to see them.

She stopped dead in her tracks as a strangled sob escaped her throat. "Daryl?" She whispered softly.

She was running, falling to her knees by the cot that held his body. His pale cold body. "No...nononono.." she grabbed his hand, bringing it to her face, then felt her tears, cascade down her face as his eyes opened and stared up at her. Never before had anyone's gaze on her face ever held so much love, never again would it ever. He watched her for as long as he could, before his eyes closed and his breath come in stuttered gasps. She swore as he took his last breath she heard him whisper "Stay safe"

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She never married again. Never could any man fill his place in her heart. She lived for her son. Until he was old enough to not need her any longer. Then one night she dreamt of him, her beloved husband. Walking though the fields, picking her a bouquet of wild roses. The same roses he had given her on her wedding day. It was time. Reaching out her hand, she followed him, as her last breath left her body.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: new chapter. As always trigger for death. Also PoW trigger here (ww1) let me know what you think :)

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead

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Chapter 2

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1918

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Daryl sat, in the dungeon of some old castle in Germany. Hastily transformed into a pow camp, by the Germans.

It was dark, so dark he could barely see his hand in front of his face. A musty smell, filled his nostrils. He was certain, hundreds of years of every vile smell know to man, permeated all the air in that dungeon. The castle was, as they had been marched in he'd seen an abandoned piece of shit. A stopping point on the road to a larger camp. The Germans were coming to an end in WW1. It would soon be over, but, the disorganization that filled the officers in charge of the prisoners, made Daryl fear not many in his regiment would survive to see armistice day.

A medic, Daryl had tried, to help the man along the journey to the castle, when it became abundantly clear that, one of the men was dreadfully sick. He'd thought at first, cholera, or typhoid, or dengue fever, all bad, but he'd quickly come to realize it was even worse. The doctors before Daryl's capture had briefed the medics on an arising threat. The Spanish influenza.

The men, worn down by the week long march, with little food or water, had quickly spread the illness. Most of the man, the prisoners, he was certain, was suffering from the illness. Including himself.

He'd tried to help them, that was how he'd ended up in isolation. A German officer had attempted to beat a prisoner for not standing. The man could not move. Daryl had lost all control and launched himself at the attacker. That's how he found himself in the dungeon. They had stripped him off his shirt so he sat bare chested. More exposed to the cold.

He snorted an ironic chuckle. He burned so hot with fever, the joke was on them. He was far from cold. A coughing spasm ripped through his body. At least he was not up in the yard, exposed to the elements like the rest of the men.

What saddened his soul was that he'd broken his promise. He wasn't going to go back to her. His beautiful Carol.

She was everything. Grace, beauty, elegance and kindness. Everything he was not.

He'd been taking in, as a stable hand, on her father's ranch when he was fourteen years old. A runaway he'd been looking for anything to give him a fresh start in life.

She was everything a rich girl should have been and so much more.

The first day he saw her, she was sitting, in the stable of an old horse who was passing away. The animal lay with his head on her lap, whining softly as she gently stroked it's mane. Murmuring " It's ok Angel, it will be beautiful there. You'll love it and you will be so happy my love." Even as she murmured she wiped tears, that trickled softly down her face. He stood back watching in fascination as the horse took it's last breath. She whispered softly as she kissed the horses temple one last time "Stay safe, till we meet again." A chill ran through him as the fine hairs on his neck stood at attention.

She noticed him standing there then and flushed then whispered "She's gone."

His heart broke into a million pieces. He wanted to wipe her wanted to comfort her somehow. He did not know how.

They developed a friendship over the years, that rapidly grew into more. He became a valued member of the staff. Or so he thought. He knew Carol's father would never approve of a relationship between the two of them, so they hid their friendship and then they hid more.

The first day he'd kissed her, she'd been helping him deliver a foal. As she cleaned foal, she'd paused, staring deeply into the animals eyes. She turned to him, her expression was true, so pure, so happy. "Those are Angels eyes."

He could not hold himself back any longer. He leaned forward and kissed her. She'd threaded her fingers through his hair and kissed him back. When they broke apart foreheads pressed together she'd smiled tears filled her eyes and said. "Finally, ...took you long enough." With a grin that had all but done him in. They'd been seventeen years old. Young, and stupid they had thought the world was theirs for the taking.

She said she would run away with him. He couldn't do that to her. Despite her father's strict ways, she loved her family. She would be miserable without them.

So he'd gone to her father. Hat in his hand, flushed and awkward and did what he thought was right. Confessed his love, asked for her hand.

Her father had not been pleased. He had not wanted such an untried young man to take control of the ranch someday, as Carol was his only child. He'd told Daryl to prove his worth. Daryl would have done anything. He enlisted to go fight in Europe. The war to end all wars.

She'd been livid. He'd heard the fight she'd had with her father all the way from the bunkhouse.

"I'll never forgive him." She muttered the next day as she clung to him before he left.

"Nahhh, don't be angry with him" Daryl had said hoarsely cupping her face in his hands. " He wants the best for you, for that, I am enternally grateful." He said as he shook of memories of his own terrible father.

"You'd best come back to me. You'd best stay safe." She said into his neck.

"I promise," he chuckled "I'm like a cat with nine lives, I'll always come back to you." Then he had gone.

Daryl was certain by now, that she knew he was imprisoned. "I'm so sorry my Angel." He whispered to the night.

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"You cannot tell her. She is barely hanging on right now. She is too ill. This will kill her."

Carol listened as her mother desperately whispered outside her door. Her body was wracked with fever. She prayed her beloved mother, would not enter her room. She had no desire to spread whatever wicked infections humours which had taken residence in her lungs to her mother. Carol was fighting. Fighting whatever illness this was. The doctors heard rumours of an influenza which was rapidly spreading. Her mother feared that is what she had. But she would fight this, for him.

"I have to, this is my fault." Her father said solemnly.

The door cracked open. Her father stepped in, handing her a telegram. Her beloved Daryl. Missing and presumed dead. She felt all the fight leave her body. Everything inside her went still, cold. She turned her back to her father. "Leave me be please father" she whispered and heard the door click.

With tears streaming down her face she surrendered, to the oblivion of sleep no fight left within her. Her soul travelling thousands of miles away trying to find it's mate. She never heard her father's cries the next day when they found her body.

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"Daryl."

His eyes opened and he gasped. She was there. Carol. Standing in front of him in a shimmering white nightgown.

"You're here." He smiled in his delirium. She knelt to her knees. Stroking his hair.

"I'll wait for you, this time as you waited for me if you are not ready." She whispered "But if you are ready we can go. We can start over." She said grabbing his hand, smiling. He stood up, stepping away from his body. Allowing one moment to hold her close, even as the light called to them.

"I love you." He murmured and the twined his hand with hers as the stepped to the light "until we find each other again, ...stay safe."


	3. Chapter 3

AN; Surprise another chapter. Very angsty. During the Great Depression. They are only friends in this withhints of more to come as they are only fifteen in this story. All kinds of trigger warning in this. Death, homelessness, poverty, the Great Depression etc.

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead

Chapter 3

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1934

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He needed to find her something to eat, she was hungry.

Daryl lifted the threadbare collar of his coat. No way was this coat suitable for the winter but he was lucky to have anything at all. Carol had stuffed newspaper into the lining which seemed to help some at cutting the cutting wind, but he was still chilled to the bone. He was headed to the docks to try to find work for the day. Anything at all, even though his stomach ached from hunger pains. His head felt slightly lightheaded. Carol needed him.

Five years ago, at the age of ten his parents had abandoned him and Merle in the city. Unable to feed the two boys, it had been no real loss to either. His father was an abusive asshole, who had taken all his rage about his current financial status out on the boys, Daryl had initial thought he'd be better on his own with Merle. The whole god damn country was suffering financially. They weren't alone in that. Jobs were at a minimum, and the price of food was, skyrocketing every day. His daddy was just an asshole. He'd been looking for a. Excuse. So, Daryl had been content, to follow Merle. Then Merle had gone out for the day to find work, and had never come back.

He'd found out later, Merle had taken a risky job at the docks, one that was very dangerous but had a big payday. He'd fallen to his death and been crushed. Daryl had not had the money to see him properly buried.

Alone, in the city at eleven. He'd wandered. Staying close to the outskirts of town, he'd hunted and scanvenged when needed. Merle before his death had made him a small bow with scraps and he'd become handy with it. He was capable of hunting squirrels when needed.

Then one day, he'd been caught in an alley. Heading back to the small shanty heMd called home. A string of squirrels on his shoulder.

He'd been jumped by three men. He wasn't no chump, he'd managed, to hold his own briefly, but he was a twelve years old, or so he guessed against three large men. They'd taken him down. He was sure they would kill him in his rage. When soundly a gun firing filled the air. The men had turned, to see a little street urchin, holding a gun on them, a stocking cat pulled down low on it's head. So bundled in a coat that Daryl could not tell if it was a boy or girl. Beside his saviour stood a large ferocious dog, baring his teeth at his attackers.

His saviour had chased off the men who seemed to realize with horror that they had been beating a child. His saviour had come closer, kneeling at his side, the hat had been swiftly pulled off to press pressure on a wound on his forehead and he saw with a gasp the most beautiful red curls, the dog whined and she turned "Hush now Angel, it's alright."

She helped him home, to the small shanty he'd built on the outskirts of town. She'd never left. Carol.

They became best friends. Her parents had passed and she'd run from an unscrupulous uncle who'd have sold her into a brothel. They protected each other. Survived together. They would do anything for one another.

He'd been shocked one day to come home and found her long beautiful curls shorn close to her head. She'd sold her hair, to a wig company." Why?" He'd asked incredulously.

She'd smiled and pulled out a small package wrapped in newspaper. "Happy Birthday" she'd said simply. Inside he'd found a hunting knife. The handle inscribed with a design of roses.

He'd protected her with a vicious ferocity he did not know he possessed, and at night he dreamed he was older, much older, fighting wars he knew nothing of, only wanting to find his way back to her.

He made sure she was feed, always, and her precious Angel feed. He'd used their last bullet to take Angel out into the forest and give her peace when it became obvious the old dog was suffering. Carol had not been able.

Although their friendship had never progressed any further, he knew that was in the future for them. His fifteen year old heart recognized his future. They simply had to survive, find better times. She was his.

Today it was raining, cold. He'd begged her to stay at the shanty. He would go find work, as he knew hunting would yield nothing today.

He loaded at the docks, for hours. Filling loads of coffee and other goods until his back ached. When he departed, he went to get food. Bread, and jerky. He felt like a failure but he knew Carol would look at it as though it was a royal feast and she did.

That night they lay together innocently for warmth only. She nestled her head on his shoulder and whispered as she drifted off to sleep "Stay safe."

Neither woke when the wind picked up that night. When the draft blew in through the slats of wood of the shanty, and tipped the candle. Setting the room ablaze. Neither woke when both their lungs began to fill with smoke. Neither woke when they both took their last breath together, hands tightly clasped, as their souls lifted from their body. Only then did the fire touch their empty shells.

Daryl stood in the forest watching the shanty burn. She stood next to him, hand tightly clasped in his.

"Someday, we will have a life together, and we will be happy." He said ignoring the pull of the light.

She turned touching his face. "Oh my love. Happiness is not a destination." She smiled tenderly "it's every lifetime I get to live with you..until we meet again Stay Safe."


	4. Chapter 4

AN: another chapter :) angsty yet again. This is during 1952, so just remember that if you are wondering why Carol does not have a phone. Let me know what you think. Trigger warning here; domestic abuse, death etc.

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead

Chapter 4

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1952

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Something pushed him onwards, and forward. Daryl ran through the night, as fast as his legs would take him, he could hear the pounding of his own heart, a symphony of drums, as he ran. Not panicked, not only determined. In his long lonely life, he'd faced much worse than what was chasing him now. He was determined, to find what he was searching for, only he wasn't quite sure what that was.

All his life, Daryl had dreamed, dreamed of a beach house of all things. He could close his eyes, and picture that house every detail, every window, every wooden shingle on the house. The same dream, almost every night. The house, had a small sign at the end of the walkway. That sign said Angel Cove. He needed to see that house, and tonight was that night.

He grew up in a small town. Two young himself to fight in the ww2, his daddy had come back a changed man. Gone was the kind man he'd remembered, in his place was a drunk, who drowned his sorrow in booze and beating his wife and child.

Daryl had wanted to get away, start over, but he couldn't leave his momma, to deal with his daddy alone. So he stayed and did whatever he could to bring his daddy's rage on himself, instead of his momma. It was the only way he knew how to protect her. Until that night.

That night he'd come home, and found momma, whimpering in the corner, her face barely recognizable, so swollen and bruised, and the blood, the blood was everywhere, except for her hand, where she'd had his daddy's old revolver clenched tightly in her fingers. She'd been in such a state, she hadn't said a word, when he'd pried the gun out of her hands, nor had she protested when he'd lied and confessed that it was him, not momma, who had shot daddy to the police. His family was white trash anyway, no one really cared as long as, someone took the blame.

The bus, taking him and two other prisoners to jail, had stopped, at a sleepy gas station, the "good old boy" guards had been lazy and fat. Needing a Coca Cola, and sweets to continue their journey. The one guard remaining on the bus, had fallen asleep, the keys dangling ever so temptingly.

The two other prisoners had motioned to him, as they made their escape, to come with them, and he wasn't planning on it. He really wasn't, but then with his head, plastered against the window of the bus his eyes had caught a glimpse of something that set his heart a blazing. A sign reading, Angel Cove. He'd escaped with them.

The three had wished each other all the best and separated, each setting out on their own. He was better on his own. He'd set off, on his way to Angel Cove and whatever answers it brought him.

He hid his his trail easily, he was certain for the moment, he was not being followed. The other prisoners seemed to draw the attention, but still he ran, practically flew over the land, needing to reach his destination. Like a moth drawn inexplicably to a flame.

He could hear the waves pounding on the shore now, the scent of the salt water of the Atlantic, filling his lungs with a renewed vigour. He burst onto a clearing, and there it sat, the house, the one in his dreams.

Barely able to stand, he made his way, gasping for breath, his lungs on fire. Walking up the stone walkway he knocked, and he could hear, a dog, barking. A soft voice whispering "Hush now Angel, it's alright."

The door opened, eyes as blue as the sea, stared up at him, unafraid only curious. Home, he thought, before his body overtook him, and he fainted into her arms.

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Well this was a pickle Carol thought as she watched the man, lying on the floor in front of her fireplace. It was the most excitement she'd had in, well years. She'd only just managed to drag the man closer to the fire, she sank down to her knees, beside him, almost in a trance, she picked up his hand, bringing it to her face. The most profound sense of deja vu, hitting her, as she set his hand back down, and pushed the hair out of his face.

He had no grease in his hair, most men this age seemed to have fallen victim to the unfortunate fad, she'd never liked it, although her experience with men at her age of twenty two was non existent, she'd always thought she'd prefer a more old fashioned hairstyle. One she could run her fingers through, or so she did in her daydreams. Her father made certain that boys were few and far between.

Her momma had passed while giving her life, in response her daddy had become, overprotective of his little girl, to the end that no man dared to approach her. Her father was Colonel in the army and at the moment was in Korea. She was on break from college, her daddy had been a little uneasy at her plans to spend her break at their beach house.

She closed her eyes as a moment of unease entered her soul at thought of her father's fate at the moment. She touched the medallion at her neck her grandma had given her while her daddy had been fighting in world war 2. It was of Saint Sophia, the mother of faith, hope and charity.

She opened her eyes, and stared at the stranger. She could run to the nearest neighbour. Ask them to go into town and find the sheriff, she wasn't certain where this man came from, the sheriff could take care of this. But as she stared at the man on her floor, she couldn't help but dismiss that option. "Have Faith" she murmured as she grasped the medallion, wondering why this man instilled such a feeling of Safety in her heart.

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He'd awoken with a start, only to find the most beautiful sight in the world staring back at him. He'd struggled to sit up, and she'd come over, helping him, her fingers soft, sending chills racing through his spine. He didn't know her, but yet she was the most familiar person he'd ever met.

"I didn't send word to the sheriff" she whispered, "but Angel," she motioned to the chocolate lab lying sleepily on the floor tail waving at a mention of her name, "is viscous and protective." She finished with a grin. Her eyes, kind.

It had come spilling out of him. The whole story, everything. His parents, what his momma had done, how he'd taken the blame, and the dreams, how almost every night he dreamed of walking up the walkway to her house. How when he had the chance he had to know, what was behind the door.

She'd listened quietly, at one point taking his hand, almost unconsciously, squeezing it tightly.

"My daddy might be able to help you." She'd whispered. She told him if her dad, and how he had powerful friends. "He's calling the phone at the library in town in one week's time, to speak to me. Have faith." She'd murmured.

"You only just met me." He'd whispered.

"You have a good soul, I can see it on your eyes." They'd stared at one another in confusion, both have a sense of time repeating itself.

The week passed and it was the happiest of Daryl's life. They spent most of the daylight hours in doors, but at night, at night they walked the beach. Laughing talking, throwing sticks for Angel who chased them happily.

The day before, she was to speak to her father, somehow it happened. A look had ignited a touch which lead to a fire, that had burned out of control. He'd looked at her in shock as their passion had crested and he'd broken through the barrier of her virginity.

"I love you." She whispered and pulled his head down to her, threading her fingers through his hair. They'd drifted off to sleep holding one another. A feeling of contentment like he had never known.

When he awoke it was evening. Angel paced restlessly at the door. With a chuckle he dressed, taking the dog out to relieve herself, heading out down the beach to walk her.

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Carol sat up with a gasp and a knock to the door. Daryl was gone, she searched frantically as a knock sounded on the door.

Taking a deep breath she saw the distinctive hat of the sheriff behind the door.

"Sheriff Grimes?" She asked as she opened.

"Miss Carol, just passing by to let you know we have three escaped convicts on the loose. Pretty sure they ain't in the area no more, but when I made the initial visit, didn't know you were here. Maybe you shouldn't be out here on your own?" The sheriff asked.

"I'm fine." She said with a smile and made small talk until the man's car was trailing down the long dirt road.

She turned, frantically running to the beach searching in the darkness, when something caught her eye in the water.

It could not be him, could it? She had warned him of dangerous rip tides and undertows today. He would not have gone out. Would he? He was not a swimmer he'd joked but maybe to avoid the sheriff.

"Daryl!" She frantically called and making a swift decision she ripped off her skirt and shook of her shoes and jumped in the water.

She swam out to the small object she'd seen, to realize the wind had blown a rogue bouey loose. Suddenly her feet, seemed to become entangled in the strong deadly current. With a cry she tried to free herself swimming as forcefully as she could.

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Daryl was heading back to the house with Angel when something on the beach caught his attention.

Carol's skirt and and shoes. The dog began to whimper, and bark at the sea, he looked up and he saw her with dread.

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As he was swimming towards her she screamed at him to go back. He wouldn't, but it was already too late he was caught. They reached out to one another in the water, fingers grasping, he pulled her too him. Even as the undertow tried to pull them under.

"I told you to go back "she cried.

"No, never leaving you again." His limbs were tiring. He could feel his soul leaving him.

Her eyes cleared, and so did his. He grasped and kissed her fiercely. "My love" he whispered as his memories returned of long ago.

"You found me." She whispered.

"Stay safe" he murmured, "I will always find you." He gasped as the undertow won the battle and they sank beneath the water hands entwined, their souls already raising above them free and heading toward the light.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: new chapter :) two time jumps in this, please look for the date with the xxx's.

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead

Chapter 5

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1975

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Where was she? Daryl ran through the US consulate in Vietnam searching rapidly through the faces waiting to be air lifted out of the country. Carol had to be there, she had to be.

Saigon was falling, they were being lifted out, a marine guard at the consulate he'd been assigned to act as a driver, for his last few days in the country. Picking up those across the city the consulate saw the need to evacuate and ushering them in beyond the walls of the consulate which provided an illusion of safety.

He was searching through the faces of journalist rapidly, scanning them for the one face he'd longed to see. Carol.

She was a photographic journalist, a rare job for females, but one she cherished. He'd never forget the first day he'd seen her. He'd had the day off, walking the streets of the now doomed community, he'd seen a red head, bent over the knee, of a crying Vietnamese child, obviously with a scrapped knee. The redhead was pouring water on a red scarf, dabbing softly at the child's knee. Talking softly to the child. He suddenly felt the knead to move closer, something drawing him to her, what he wasn't sure, he just needed to be closer. As he moved closer he heard her murmur. "Oh Angel, it's okay, don't cry."

He stopped in his tracks, his throat almost closing over as a knot formed in his chest threatening to overwhelm him. He wasn't sure why. She stood as the child ran away wiping her hands with a chuckle, placing the red rag he later learned was used to wipe her camera lenses, hanging from her back pocket. She turned as though she sensed someone behind her, coming face to face with him. They stood stunned staring at one another. He saw her hand lift as though to touch his face but she quickly dropped it.

"Do I know you?" She whispered.

"No." He said but his heart whispered that was a lie. Somehow he knew her. His heart knew her. He just wasn't sure how.

The next few months brought about a love affair he'd never thought he'd be capable off. He'd always thought himself a prickly mother fucker, he had not been sure love was something he was capable of. But he was. Affection like he'd never known he possessed flowed out of him, sometimes he was scared she would feel smothered by it, but she never did. It was as though every part of his soul where before he'd found lacking, she filled up the empty spaces. He just could not loose her.

He ran through the halls, feeling panic overwhelm him, when he saw a familiar place. "Dale!" He yelled, running up to the senior journalist Carol worked with. "Where's Carol?"

Dale looked worried "She went out to shoot film of the evacuation of the orphanage. I'm worried Daryl, they were bombing that area, I haven't been able to reach her." He didn't let Dale finish before he was running, yelling to his commander where he was going, jumping in his jeep and speeding away.

He knew what orphanage she would be at. Saint Sophia's. A catholic orphanage she regularly volunteered at, he sped through the streets, they were packed with those desperately trying to flee the advancing troops.

He pulled into the orphanage lot, and let out a strangled yell. It had been hit, maybe clipped by a bomb, half the building was demolished. He ran in, shouting, when Glenn the driver who often drove Carol came running to him. His commander refused to let him drive Carol when he learned of their relationship.

"Daryl thank god! She's trapped, I need help to free her." He followed Glenn his heart pounding in his lungs. She lay in the rubble, concrete, over her abdomen and legs. Her face so white.

"You have to go" she was telling the nuns near her, trying to comfort her. "Take the children and go." Then she whispered something to the nun, who looked at her in shock and nodded. Kissed her forehead, took the remaining children and fled.

"Daryl.." she murmured when she noticed him.

He fell to his knees beside her, taking her hand than frantically trying to move the concrete on her legs. Glenn helping him.

"Daryl..."

"Daryl..."

"Daryl...". He looked up as she spoke "You have to go. Glenn heard chatter on the radio, they are coming back around to bomb again. There's...there's no chance." She whispered.

"No!" He yelled.

"Daryl...I'm trapped, there's a piece of rebar in my stomach. If you could move the concrete, I would...bleed out. I didn't want to say so in front of the kids. You need to go..." he slumped down in dejection, tears streaming down his face.

"Go Glenn." He whispered.

"But..." Glenn said.

"Go." He yelled.

Glenn left running and Daryl took her hand, bringing it to his lips. He could hear the bombers making their way closer.

"Go.." she whispered.

"No, I can't loose you again." He growled.

"Again?" She said confused, he leaned down brushing his lips over hers.

Her eyes opened with memories bubbling up from her soul and explosions sounded around them. "Oh my love" she whispered " Stay Safe."

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2015 ...ish

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He watched her from a distance. Her ass up in the air, she was putting on quite a show he thought with a chuckle as she groomed the white horse legs.

The Kingdom soldiers all seemed to ride horses, Daryl had been surprised that Carol could ride. He'd never known that about her, although he seemed to recall her saying she could ride, at Hershel's farm when she had begged to be allowed to go look for Sophia.

Sophia, the thought had him flinching in pain as memories of the little girl ran through his head. He'd thought that in time, the pain of that day would heal. Time would heal all wounds and all that crap, but if he was honest, the more he loved Carol, the more he saw her hurt, the more that day hurt to remember.

He loved her, he'd come to accept that fact, almost the first day he'd seen her. Something about her pulled him in. Sometimes he felt He would drown in her eyes if he looked at them for too long. But time never seemed to be on their side, and something inside him always felt, that if he acted at the wrong moment, it would mean a disaster.

So he watched and waited, every moment she was near, dying a little more inside when he saw how much she'd suffered. He'd suffered too, his life had been filled with it seemed never ending sorrow, like all his life something was missing. Like a piece of him just wasn't there, until the day at the quarry he'd seen her. He'd suffered but nothing hurt worse than watching her pain.

He was hovering in her orbit yet again. Having Rick assign him with her as they fought Negan. He needed to be with her. He needed to have her near. The panic seemed to lessen when that happened.

He got up, shoving the usual red rag he'd been using to clean his bow in his back pocket. They were at the kingdom, on a lay over getting resupplied. Carol was grooming her horse. Tara and Morgan had gone off to their respective rooms for the night.

"You want some help?" He asked, his voice was hoarse with emotion, just like every time he saw her, every time she was near. She smiled up at him, moving to give the horse a treat, scratching the horse's mane. "That's ok, all done."

"What's her name anyway,?" he'd asked nodding at the horse. But as her lips open before she made a sound he knew the answer. They together spoke at once.

"Angel."

She paused in the motion of scratching the horses neck her bodyshaking. His own mind filled with memories of past lives and existences.

"Oh my love" she whispered.

She turned to him, tears streaming down her face, no more than his own tears. She brought her hands up to his cheeks, her eyes as blue as the ocean.

"Oh my love." She whispered again "you found me even after the world ended."

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The end-

So I lied, it wasn't completely no zombies but I wanted you all to be surprised. Let me know what you think. I have had a bit of a rough week and your reviews make me so happy :)

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